How to Catch a Cowboy

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How to Catch a Cowboy Page 3

by Tia Souders


  She stopped in front of the reception desk and waited while Rhett scrawled something in a notebook, taking his time before he slammed it shut, glanced at his watch, then at her.

  She wasn’t late; she made sure of that. Regardless, her stomach churned under his piercing gaze.

  He tapped the pen in his hand against the closed book as his eyes trailed down her form, assessing her outfit.

  Self-consciously, she shifted on her feet, hoping she was dressed properly. She didn’t exactly have ranch wear just lying around in her drawers. If she even knew what ranch wear was. Still, she figured jeans and a t-shirt were a safe bet.

  “You’re going to get dirty, so I hope those are old clothes,” he said, his gaze lingering on her snow-white sneakers. Then, without waiting for an answer, he said, “Listen, this was Tess’s idea. I’m not real keen on it, so I want to start off by saying if the job is too hard and you can’t do it, there’s no hard feelings.”

  “I’ll manage,” she said.

  “But you’re a woman.”

  “And?” She blinked at him like he was stupid.

  “It’s just . . . I’m having you fill in for Brian, not Tiny, and the work Brian did for us was pretty physical, a far cry from working in an office.”

  How perfectly sexist.

  Danny rolled her eyes. “Mr. Montgomery, I am not so delicate. Just because I was born a girl and came from the city, doesn’t mean I don’t know the meaning of a hard day’s work. I didn’t grow up in Buckingham Palace. Quite the opposite, in fact. My father worked construction and my mother cleaned houses for a living.”

  She leaned forward, allowing the prick of irritation to embolden her as she jabbed a finger toward his chest. “I don’t know what kind of women you’ve been with in your life, but don’t think that I’m afraid to roll up my sleeves and get my hands a little dirty. I can and will do anything you put in front of me.”

  His eyes darkened with some indiscernible emotion. Then he blinked, and it was gone. “Okay, fine,” he gritted out.

  He waltzed around the reception desk until he stood right in front of her and leaned a hip against it while the muscle above his jaw twitched. “You really want this job, you can have it. We’ll see how long you last.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be longer than it took you to groom yourself this morning,” she bit back, then instantly regretted it. Insulting her new boss probably wasn’t the best tactic to earn employee of the year, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself.

  Regardless, he remained unaffected. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d say there was a hint of a smile underneath that scruffy thing he called a beard.

  “Brian was in charge of general maintenance, which basically runs the gamut around here between mowing the lawn, taking care of the landscaping, fertilizing, shoveling manure, chopping and stacking wood, as well as other daily and weekly chores. It also means he filled in for other staff when we’re short, such as the front desk,” he tapped the counter beside him, “and even helping the ranch hands, if need to be. The starting wage for this position is twelve-fifty an hour.”

  Danny nodded. The pay wasn’t great, a far cry from her combined salary with Neil, but she could make it work. Besides, it was just her now, and learning to do more with less was always a good thing.

  “I want benefits,” she said.

  Rhett scoffed. “For a temporary position?”

  “I heard Tess say you were already one man short, which leads me to believe that even when Brian comes back, you could use me.”

  Rhett shot her a glare. “Fine. If you last more than two weeks, you’ll have benefits.”

  “Great.”

  It was more than great. It felt good negotiating. She hadn’t stood her ground in a long time. Plus, she could finally stop searching for independent insurance policies. They were all exorbitant and lousy.

  Danny inclined her head and smiled sweetly. “Where do I start?”

  “If you head out to the stables, you’ll find Noah. Have him direct you to the stalls that need cleaned and tell him you’re his help for the day. Turned out the kid I hired a few weeks back was sleeping in the hay instead of actually mucking the stalls, so they’re a mess. Around here, we like to keep things pristine. It makes for a better environment for both the animals and the guests looking in at them.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll have them good as new. And after that?”

  His lips twitched. “After that,” he drawled, “there is some wood to be chopped outside the storage shed. You can chop and stack until the pile is gone. Usually, in the spring, we start replenishing the firewood again for fall, but since we were short staffed, it was put off.”

  “Got it,” she said, straightening, hoping he didn’t see her uncertainty. Cleaning stalls she could do. Chopping wood might be a little more challenging. She’d never so much as picked up an ax before and her upper body strength was practically nonexistent. But she’d do it, even if just to prove him wrong.

  “Just point me to the cleaning supplies, and I’ll get started.”

  Rhett arched a brow. “Cleaning supplies?”

  “Yeah, you know . . . rags and cleaners or soap—”

  Rhett barked out a laugh. “Oh, that’s fabulous. You think—” He gasped for breath as he howled, laughing at her expense.

  Danny put her hands on her hips and glared.

  Once he finally caught his breath, he rasped. “You won’t be using Windex and a dust cloth. When I said clean the stalls, I meant you’ll be shoveling out all the manure and old straw.” Waving her away, he added, “Noah will get you a shovel, a pitchfork, and anything else you need.”

  Oh. Danny shifted her gaze from his as a blush rose to her cheeks.

  Of course you don’t clean a cow stall like you would an office, you idiot!

  “Well, okay, then. Get to it and report back to me once you’ve finished those things,” he said, not bothering to disguise the laughter in his voice.

  Danny turned and walked away when she heard him mutter something along the lines of, If you finish.

  She paused and glanced behind her with narrowed eyes. The crinkles around his eyes and his smug smile conveyed his amusement. Turning back around, she hurried back through the lodge doors. It was bad enough he thought her incompetent simply because she was a woman and from the city without her opening her mouth and revealing how utterly clueless she was.

  She sighed, paying little attention to where she was going when she nearly smacked into Tess.

  Tess stumbled back and reached out, steadying Danny with a firm hand. “Whoa. You okay there?”

  “Yep. I’m fine,” Danny said with forced enthusiasm. “Just off to work.”

  Tess glanced toward the lodge. Her hair was so long that even pulled into a high pony, it trailed down the middle of her back in a golden wave. When she shifted her gaze down to Danny’s fists, she frowned. “Wait, you’re not working at the reception desk?”

  “No. I’m working Brian’s job instead.”

  Tess squeezed her eyes closed and muttered something under her breath, then blinked them open and eyed Danny closely as she said, “Well, at least he didn’t scare you off. He has a tendency to do that to people.”

  Danny grimaced. “I would never have guessed and can’t imagine why.”

  When Tess tipped her head back and laughed, it amazed Danny this woman was kin with the man inside. The two may have shared the same long, straight nose, sun-kissed skin, and sparkling hazel eyes, but that’s where the similarities ended. Their personalities seemed to be night and day. Where Rhett was moody and sullen, Tess was a ray of sunshine. While Rhett was brusque and unwelcoming, Tess already felt like a good friend.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Tess said, then the two women grinned at each other just as the door to the lodge opened, drawing their attention.

  Rhett stood, one hand spread over the door, the other on his hip, the set of his scowl so deep it was a wonder his face didn’t crack. “Am I paying you la
dies to talk or work?”

  “Both,” Tess shot back, still grinning. “I was giving Danny some tips for workin’ for you.”

  “Well, those stalls won’t clean themselves, and the breakfast specials won’t cook without a chef.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Tess said, without budging an inch.

  Then Rhett grumbled something under his breath, turned, and went back inside.

  A moment of silence passed between them as Danny noticed the way Tess’s wistful gaze followed Rhett’s fading form. A sad smile touched her lips, and just when Danny was about to turn and head to the stables, Tess whispered, “He never used to be like this.”

  Danny froze, assessing Tess’s profile. Her tone was so serious, so pensive, Danny’s heart squeezed at the sound.

  Danny said nothing in return; she simply nodded. After all, who was she to judge him?

  “He’s a good guy . . . “ Tess murmured, seemingly lost wherever her mind had gone. “He just . . . he had something happen a couple years back, and he just can’t seem to dig his way out of the darkness.”

  Danny glanced back to the lodge entrance where Rhett just stood. She thought of her mother, whom she missed dearly, and the knife-deep wound of Neil’s betrayal, and murmured, “Haven’t we all?”

  NOAH WAS A NICE BOY. Danny had no idea how he could stand working for an intolerable man like Rhett. Though, as of yet, Danny hadn’t seen any evidence to suggest he was just as churlish with others as he was with her.

  “You sure you don’t want any help?” Noah asked, handing her a pitchfork and a pair of thick work gloves.

  “Nope. I got it.” She pulled the gloves on, wiggling her fingers. “Just point me to the manure, and I’ll shovel away.”

  Noah scratched his head. “Uh, this is it.”

  Danny frowned. “But it’s nothing but a solid dirt floor,” she said, poking at it with the tines of the fork.

  “Actually, that’s all one giant layer of hay and—”

  “Poop,” she said in horror, realizing he was right. If she poked the sharp ends of the fork hard enough into the surface of the thick film, it stuck.

  “The kid who was supposed to be cleaning them really blew it,” Noah explained. “When this much hay and manure accumulate, the steer just pack it down, and it forms kind of like a crust. He was really good at hiding the fact he wasn’t doing his job. By the time Rhett saw this, he was livid. The cattle have since been moved to another barn and pasture, but this kind of fell to the bottom of the list of work to be done.”

  “Okay.” Danny inhaled a cleansing breath. “Well, I best get to work then.”

  “Alright.” Noah nodded, then glanced down at her sneakers and arched a brow. “Just holler if you need anything. I’ll be grooming the horses. The other stalls won’t be like these two,” he assured her. “They’re easy.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she called after him.

  It wasn’t lost on her that Rhett could’ve easily assigned Noah to stall duty while she groomed the horses. But whatever. Clearly he thought she was incapable, that he could run her off with a little hard work and sweat. So she’d prove just how capable she was.

  A couple hours later, she finished the steer barn and moved onto the horse stalls. Her shirt stuck to her back, damp with sweat. Her arms ached with the exertion of lifting the heavy shovelfuls and flinging them into the wagon attached to the back of the tractor where Noah said he would take it to dump in the compost.

  The manure and hay were packed down so thick, it took her more than an hour just to clean one of them. Sometimes, it came off in giant pieces and she had to actually chisel it off like chunks of ice. What lay beneath reeked—a sour, putrid stench that burned her eyes and throat—unlike anything she’d ever smelled before. Danny grimaced.

  By the time she finished the horse stalls, she was ready for a hot shower and a nap. But the moment she stepped outside the barn into the fresh air, she caught a glimpse of Rhett who was talking to Noah. It was unfair, really, for him to be so attractive yet so sullen at the same time.

  When his hazel eyes slid to hers, his frown morphed into a cocky smirk.

  Danny lowered her head. It was like he knew she was watching him. How embarrassing.

  She turned back toward the barn, trying to look as though she was busy, when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her, followed by Rhett’s raspy voice. “You look a little tired.”

  Her hands fisted by her side as she spun around. She could only imagine how she looked—sweaty, dirty, and tired weren’t exactly how a woman wanted to present herself in front of an attractive man.

  A million rotten retorts formed on the tip of her tongue. But the second she met his gaze, her stomach took a nosedive while butterflies rioted in her chest, and they slipped her mind.

  Ugh. Get a grip, Danny.

  Her lips managed a tight smile. “No. I’m just fine, actually. In fact, I’m getting ready to move onto that woodpile you mentioned.”

  “Were you now?” Rhett crooked his fingers inside his belt loops and rocked back on his heels, grinning.

  Danny nodded.

  “Well, just say the word and you’re off the hook.”

  Over my dead body.

  Danny just smiled, focusing all her energy on breathing calmly in and out through her nose.

  “In the meantime,” he added, “maybe you should go grab a bottle of water from the lodge first. You look a little parched. I’d hate to have you passing out on me.”

  The vein in Danny’s forehead pulsed. Any minute, she’d start twitching. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  Then she watched him shake his head and walk away.

  CHAPTER 4

  Danny stared at the giant stack of logs. Each one was about a foot long, yet some of them were so thick, she could wrap her arms around them and her fingers still wouldn’t touch. Where did they even get all this timber, anyway? She glanced at her surroundings as if there might be a fallen grove of trees somewhere nearby.

  When her gaze returned back to the pile, she noticed a large log sitting vertically on the ground. Wedged inside it was an ax, with another laying at the base of the log.

  She moved toward the ax and placed both hands on the wooden handle and yanked.

  Nothing. It didn’t even budge.

  She pursed her lips, assessing the ax like a newfound rival, then shook out her arms. Placing one foot on top of the squat log for leverage and the other firmly on the ground beside it, she rearranged her hands on the handle, clenched her jaw, and pulled.

  She groaned as her arms strained from the effort. Her forehead pulsed as she gritted her teeth. Without warning, she felt the tool give. The ax flew free from the wood. Momentum whipped her backward while the ax catapulted in the air above her as her butt took the impact of the fall, followed by her back. The air whooshed from her lungs and she lay there on the hard earth, staring into a sky the color of ripe blueberries, dotted with wisps of cotton candy clouds.

  Blinking, she inhaled oxygen into her lungs, then rolled onto her side with a grunt.

  She stood, ax in hand, and dusted herself off with her free hand, then glanced around her to ensure no one had been watching. Thankfully, not a soul was in sight.

  A moment later, the thudding in her head dulled to a mild thump, so she placed one log on top of the stump, then stared. Maybe it was time to admit she had no idea what she was doing. Of course, she’d seen people split wood on TV, but never before in real life. She lived in the city where fireplaces ran on gas.

  And, sure, there was that trip she took to Vermont with Neil. The skiing was fabulous and the fireplace absolutely peaceful and serene with its crackling logs and bright orange flames, but when they needed to feed the fire, all she had to do was step outside the door and a nice little pile of pre-split wood awaited her.

  She let out a breath, then double-checked for spectators. It wouldn’t surprise her to find Rhett hiding somewhere with a pair of binoculars just waiting for her to fail.


  Once she deemed herself safe, she plucked her phone out of her pocket and Googled How to split wood with an ax, then watched the tutorial featuring a thirty-something male with muscled arms and a chiseled jaw slice into a log like butter with a knife.

  The first step was placing the wood to be chopped on the log.

  Check.

  Second step involved her stance.

  Stand with feet slightly apart.

  She shimmied her feet, about a foot apart in front of the log.

  Check.

  Next, find a visible grain or crack in the log. This is where she wanted to focus the ax.

  Her eyes moved over the log, surprised to find there was a small crack on the left side.

  Check.

  Finally, she had to raise the ax over her head and bring her arms down, allowing the ax to carry the momentum and do the work as the blade made contact with the log.

  Right . . .

  Danny eyed the log, then raised her arms overhead like the guy in the video, doubtful this simple movement would somehow result in severing the log.

  When she brought the ax down, she focused on the crack, but somehow fell slightly right of it and the ax plunged into the wood with staggering momentum, only to . . .

  She grunted as she yanked.

  . . . get stuck.

  She braced one foot on the log in front of her and pulled at the ax with a groan, but it wouldn’t budge. Even after what seemed like a well thought out and simple tutorial, she managed to bring herself right back to square one.

  This was gonna be a long day.

  THREE HOURS LATER, she had managed to chop a quarter of the pile using her own method. For every wedge of firewood, she plunged the blade of the ax into the log where she wanted it split, then proceeded to use the blunt end of the second ax to hammer the blade of the embedded ax further into the wood like a nail. Although more time consuming, this used much less energy and only required minimal strength, whereas, she was pretty sure the traditional method of Paul Bunyan woodchopping would’ve resulted in a lopping off a finger or toe, or her arms transforming into useless noodles.

 

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